Game Over
by Marika Webster
Summary: When someone commits suicide, who is the real victim? The one who is gone or the ones left behind? Rating for language. Dark.


A/N- This story is for all the survivors out there. Blessed Be.

Disclaimer- There are no names mentioned, so no one could sue me if they tried. ::snorts:: I dare you to fuck with me in the mood that I'm in.

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Game Over

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I woke up this morning and smiled. Because for a few moments everything in my world was perfect. I was smiling, my lover was beside me and all was as it should be. And then… I remembered. I remembered what the harsh reality that made it so difficult to draw breath was. I remembered why it felt like this numb heart of mine was trying to beat it's way free from the cage of my chest. It's your fault. It's all your fault. And it hurts. And still… I smile. 

I wake up and light a cigarette why waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing my poison of choice. And I smile. I shower, dress and brush my teeth before heading out to greet the day. And I smile. I run errands. The grocery store to pick up tomatoes for the soup I am making. To the mall. I need a new jacket. It's not cold enough for my winter coat, but still enough of a chill that I need more than just the turtleneck and overalls I wear. And home again, to my three cats and the afternoon talk show. And still I smile. I am sitting in the living room, watching the news. Someone bombed a bus in Israel today. And again, I smile. 

I feel as though my face is going to break. I expect it to crack and fall away in pieces, exposing my true feelings for all to see. All through my day, I smile. I grin. I give a cheerful word and play the part of the happy person you thought you knew so well. The person everyone thinks they know. But they don't really know. So few of the people in my life have ever been astute enough to see past this façade. 

But you, why couldn't you have seen through the smile? How could you have known that you'd wormed your way in? How were you to know that you were more important to me than just a drinking buddy or an occasional lunch date. How were you to know that you were my friend? How were you to know when I never told you? 

If you only knew how exhausted I am. How very tired I get of having to be "just fine, thanks". I wonder if it would have ever bothered you to know the hell that you are putting me through. The tears that even now threaten me, the tears that blur my vision as I write this. I'm typing by memory, by the feel of the keys that I know so well. There is comfort in the familiar I suppose. The knowledge that even when my fantasy world that is so brittle… spun glass… even when that fails me, they keys never will. 26 letters. 10 numbers… in the keys lie my salvation. And in the keys… lies you. 

You exhaust me. You consume me. You have inspired in me this incredibly complex situation that I would give my very breath and life to avoid. So many emotions well up inside me that I can not comprehend or begin to process them all. I feel so many things that I am almost numb. 

So many things. I hate you. I hate you with every fiber of my being. Why did you leave me? Why did you choose to threaten my stability? HOW COULD YOU? It wasn't for you to decide. It wasn't your choice. It wasn't your time. I hate you. I understand. No… I don't understand. I sympathize. Yeah, that's it. I sympathize. I empathize as well. I have been where you were. Perhaps I did not have the courage you did. Or perhaps I had more than you did, because I am still here. I chose not to leave. I chose to stay. I chose and still choose… I make the choice again every day that I live. I choose to live. I choose to go on and become what it was I was destined for, whatever that may be. 

And still, I'm smiling. Even as I can feel m body convulsing with the sobs that I refuse to let go of… I smile. Damn you. I hope you are burning in hell. The hell that you have put me through.

Have you found the redemption you were so hoping to find? Or have you found only an eternity of the suffering you sought to escape? Are you doomed? Or am I? Are all of us that you left behind? Are you happy? Are you satisfied that your final hissy fit drove your point home? Is this enough drama for you, my sweet friend? "Pussy cat, pussy cat… where have you been? I have been to London to kill the Queen." 

Your memory mocks me. Your voice echoes in my mind, lilting laughter that I can not erase. Is that bitterness a true memory or is it something that my guilty conscience has placed there to give me something to puzzle over? 

When will it end? When will it stop? SHUT UP! Just shut up and leave me alone. Give me a moment's peace. I need time to think. You never were content to live in the shadows, and even in death you still dance a macabre tango to the forefront of my mind. You are as relentless in death as you were in life. Well you know what? Fuck you. 

That right… you heard me. Fuck you. I'm strong. I can deal with this. I've never given up. Through all the shit I have endured in my life, through all the things I've been through. All the battles I have fought. I have persevered and been victorious in the end. You are a ghost. Nothing more than another battle that I have to fight. Like all the others, you will be nothing more than a statistic, another obstacle that I have overcome in the end. And then… you will be sorry. I will make you pay. 

You will never fade to nothing, you will never be reduced to the ashes that you so well deserve to be… but someday, eventually, you will be nothing more than another regret that lingers in the depths of my psyche. Another nameless, faceless problem unsolved. 

There are some things about me that you don't know. Things that you can not begin to comprehend. If you thought you would become all knowing in death, even if you are… you know something? I could give a rat's ass what you think. 

A little cocky am I? I have a right to be. A reason? Yeah… here's a reason. I'm alive. You're dead. Piss off. Game over. I win. 

-Fin

Heidi McVay aka Marika Webster

12052003


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